When I first came to the UK, I felt the need to attempt to integrate and I would visit a pub every now and again to have a beer. Often, there would be a premier league football match on a big screen. Sitting in the corner and minding my own business, I would sip my drink and enjoy the match. I couldn’t help but be a bit self-conscious, especially when I was often the only black man in the “neighbourhood” (apologies to Malcolm X)

On this one occasion there were two black men in the “neighbourhood”, myself and another guy who sounded Caribbean. There was a match between Manchester United and Liverpool on the screen and this other black guy, apparently a Man U supporter, was getting increasingly animated. He would kick every ball and shout loudly at the screen if the referee made a decision he did not agree with, all in good humour and perfectly normal for a football fan. Or so I thought till one burly white guy spotting a Man U shirt walked up to him and asked;

“So you a Man U fan yeeh?”

The guy smiled

“Have you been to Manchester? Do you know Old Trafford?” the white guy asked

“No”

“I was born five minutes from Old Trafford” He said

This would have been fine if he had been trying to start a normal conversation. His demeanour and tone was laced with a hint of sarcasm, a direct challenge to the guys claim to be a Man U fan when he had no link at all to the city. He walked away and my friend the Caribbean sounded much quieter after that. I left as soon as I had finished my drink and never visited the pub again. I knew my place.

I continued to follow the premiership of course, but I always felt I had to have a good reason for claiming to support any team. For come to think of it, I am a fan of Cape Coast Mysterious Ebusua Dwarfs. That will never change. It’s in my heart. There is a good reason for that. I grew up in Cape Coast where as a little boy, my dad would take me to watch the likes of Robert Kofie, Scorpion, Ennin, Edzie, Joe Carr, and Apah at their best. I cannot suddenly become a Man U fan, though I can admire them and wish them well.

So I started off by supporting Arsenal, because at the time, they paraded the highest number of players of African descent, with the likes of Kanu, Lauren and Patrick Viera in good form. Then suddenly, Michael Essien came to Chelsea and I jumped ship. I wanted to support a team with a Ghanaian featuring regularly. Then Sulley Muntari came to Portsmouth, and I felt, that since Essien was now well settled, I had to support Sulley at Portsmouth. Then Paintsil went to Fulham and John Mensah came to Sunderland and now I am confused. Yet, am I proud that Ebusua Dwarfs remains in my heart and I see the European teams for just what they are – a well-packaged product for our consumption, in much the same way as Christianity, chocolates and whisky were given to us.

So next time you see a Ghanaian who claims to be a staunch supporter of Real Madrid or Barcelona, do not be impressed. For, whilst it is interesting to follow these world class footballers, the intensity with which some Ghanaians are pretending to be fans is becoming frightening.